


Coffee Break Temptations

by heavenlymoonbeam (vilupe)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Animalistic Sex, Bottom Castiel, Knotting, M/M, Omega Castiel, Self-Lubrication, Twink!Cas, chubby!cas, suggestions of mating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6416776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilupe/pseuds/heavenlymoonbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don’t work here, do you?” Dean asks. It’s not that he really minds, not at all if the way his gut is tingling with want, but everyone on this floor is on his payroll, so he would know if there was a new omega intern or whatever. </p><p>The omega shuffles on his feet, eyes darting away from Dean’s to peer into his newly filled mug. “Ah, no. Sorry. I’m Charlie’s brother. She said that I could study here while she finished installing software on the new computers in finance or something like that?” The pitch of his voice goes from sex-deep and rougher than it has any right to be to high and unsure like he thinks that Dean is going to call him out on any potential inaccuracies when he’s barely capable of preventing himself from burying his nose into the pale column of the omega’s neck. </p><p>*<br/>Dean keeps bumping into Cas, a tempting, young omega that's been using Sandover offices like his personal study hall, and eventually gives in to his mounting desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Break Temptations

**Author's Note:**

> This was an amazing prompt from my tumblr that I should have crossposted weeks ago, but I've been so busy! Please let me know about any typos although I did try reading it over several times :3

Dean doesn’t generally frequent the break room at Sandover. The surplus of tittering betas hiding from the inanities of their lower level positions never fails to ruffle the part of him that wants to sink his claws into something. Today it’s way past working hours and his assistant has long since gone home at his urging, so he doesn’t hesitate to slip in to use the coffee machine, resigning himself to the slightly over-brewed stuff their nearly ancient machine putters out. 

He’s two steps in when his senses go on high alert— the hair along his arms prickling like he’s been struck by 2000 volts and his nostrils flaring unconsciously. Sitting at the largest table is a cute little omega that can’t be more than 20. His face is round and soft and he’s practically swimming in a sweater that indicates an affiliation with the downtown Conservatory for Music. Large blue eyes blink up at him from dark, wild fringe. Dean would say that the omega was having a similar meltdown by the way he turned a delicious pink from his cheeks all the way down his neck if he wasn’t three inhales away from straight up drooling onto the shiny waxed floors. 

There’s something strange that happens to an alpha when presented with the scent of a fertile, available omega. It’s worse when they’re compatible, and the fuck-me-sideways, sunshine-over-rainbows sucker punch that is this omega’s scent is screaming compatibility. Dean’s only locked eyes with this sweet faced twink for two minutes max when he already knows he wants to bend him over the table and fuck him senseless. 

Dean’s not some backwoods fundamentalist that’s driven by his knot— like it’s gotten him into plenty of consensual, bendy trouble when he was barely out of puphood, but common decency is called that for a reason. 

So despite his veins flooding with a heat that tells him he needs to sink his knot into tight, welcoming, omega wetness, he rubs a quick hand over his face and rushes past the table in order to flood his nose with the scent of coffee as soon as possible. 

Although he was planning on taking the coffee back to his office once it’s finished percolating, Dean lingers. He is curious enough about the unknown omega that he risks designer slacks to lean against the dubiously clean counter and sneak peaks of the omega from the corner of his eye while he sips coffee. 

The omega stands up, and holy fuck, the sweater that’s merely bulky around his shoulders stretches tightly around wide, thick hips and the cutest stomach. Dean bites his lip because he’s overcome with thoughts of darkening all that pale, soft skin with bruising kisses. 

“Excuse me?” The omega asks. 

And Dean gets the feeling that he might have missed something because he’s getting a strangely concerned look from under those sooty eyelashes. 

“Yeah,” Dean rasps out. His voice is halfway to completely fucked out since he can’t seem to get a grip on himself. 

He fiddles with a travel mug in his hand, soft yellow with metallic gold honeycombs that catch the light whenever he turns his wrist. “Do you mind if I have some?” 

“No, no. Go ahead,” Dean says, eyes fixated on the omega as he approaches the space right next to Dean in order to pour coffee until his mug is full. Now that he’s so close, Dean can’t seem to force himself to look away while he barely adds any cream before dumping spoon fulls of sugar into it. 

“You don’t work here, do you?” Dean asks. It’s not that he really minds, not at all if the way his gut is tingling with want, but everyone on this floor is on his payroll, so he would know if there was a new omega intern or whatever. 

The omega shuffles on his feet, eyes darting away from Dean’s to peer into his newly filled mug. “Ah, no. Sorry. I’m Charlie’s brother. She said that I could study here while she finished installing software on the new computers in finance or something like that?” The pitch of his voice goes from sex-deep and rougher than it has any right to be to high and unsure like he thinks that Dean is going to call him out on any potential inaccuracies when he’s barely capable of preventing himself from burying his nose into the pale column of the omega’s neck. 

He takes another sip of coffee and just stays there, not bothering to go back to his workstation in favor of swaying into Dean’s space and watching him with bright, curious blue eyes dilated to thin rings of interest. It’s patently unfair. The cute little twink has no idea how fucking hard he’s making it for Dean to be a civil goddamn human being. 

“She said no one would be here and that this floor had the best chairs,” he offers at Dean’s lingering silence. 

“Normally she’d be right,” Dean manages to say. Internally he forces himself to get a grip, chemistry might excuse the rolling waves of unabashed want seeping from his pores, but he doesn’t want to make the omega unnecessarily uncomfortable. 

“Dean Winchester, by the way,” he offers, but doesn’t extend his hand to shake. He really doesn’t know what he’d do if came into contact with any of that skin. “I wasn’t aware that Charlie had a younger brother.” 

The omega’s eyes widen and he quickly explains, “It’s recent. My name’s Castiel Novak—we’re actually step-siblings.” 

Dean files the information away and wonders how long it’s going to take him before he’s lingering around the edges of Charlie’s cubicle to get more info on sweet-smelling Castiel. He happens to glance at the clock in the break room, wincing at the lateness of the hour. As much as he wants to roll around in Castiel’s scent and the dripping slick from his thighs, he does have a deadline that will have Zachariah riding his ass all month if he hasn’t finished in time. 

Putting some necessary distance between them and nodding to Castiel, he says, “It’s nice meeting you, but I really have to get back to work.” 

He walks fast paced towards the door of the break room, clenching his fists tightly as he forces himself to ignore the disappointed look that comes over Castiel’s eyes. 

Dean gets swept up in work after that. The hours tick past into daylight and all thoughts of reciprocal interest from Castiel slip from his mind as he tackles his current client’s project. At night though, that’s a different story. He has fantasies of fucking brown haired, blue eyed twinks that smell sweeter than cherry pie but flush just as red and pretty. It’s little more than a harmless indulgence because as much as he’s tempted to ask Charlie about her step-brother, he’s not some creep that hunts down young, eager distractions and he honestly doesn’t expect to see Castiel again. 

Two days later he bumps into Castiel in the lobby while he’s on his way out to meet Sammy for lunch. The shock of it stops him in his tracks, but it’s that bone deep attraction he can’t shake that has him stopping to chat despite being more than a few minutes late. Turns out that Cas’s car is shit and he’s been borrowing Charlie’s to get to and from school. He says that he didn’t have a problem studying here before and wonders if it would be alright to wait for Charlie while he has the car, or if he’s overstepped somehow? And truth is, Dean should really say something. Sandover isn’t some public library where people can just sit around like gift wrapped temptation, but he’s weak, and the thought of being able to talk to Cas, considerate, clever, pretty Cas, every day for at least whole week while his car is worked on, has him assuring Cas that there’s no issue at all with him studying here. 

Every conversation they end up having just fuels Dean’s need to take care of everything Castiel could ever need, and he’s fucking into his fist at night, coming harder than he’s had in years at thoughts that begin to verge on domestic. Although he can’t say he’s surprised by how much he just wants to hold and provide for Cas, he’s a little taken aback by how much the idea of mating him stirs the fire in his belly just as much as if he had a face full of Cas’s slick. 

Sometime during week two of Cas’s car being out for repairs, there’s a company event designed to show appreciation to the employees or some other HR crap that is basically an attempt to put life back into their numerous overworked bodies. It’s loud—all these people crowded around the public watering holes. Cas is in his floor’s break room again. Dean had insisted that it was the best place to study since they did happen to have excellent chairs which had nothing to do with getting to see Cas during his frequent coffee breaks that he no longer sends his assistant on—nothing at all.   

Dean pokes his head into the break room just after lunch, snorting softly at the sight of Cas’s obvious annoyance. His brow is a deep furrow that hides his blue eyes, and his cheeks are puffed up, mouth a thin line against the grumpiness that’s probably dying to come out. 

Throwing a careless wave at Garth and a few other’s that have stopped by to grab food, Dean slips up next to Cas and leans down to whisper, “Hey, do you want to study somewhere else?” 

Cas looks up at him curiously before his eyes dart around to the rest of the people in the break room. “I was under the impression that it was like this everywhere?” 

“Well, all the public places, sure,” Dean says, grinning in a way that he hopes Cas finds charming. “But I hear my office is pretty quiet. And I have a couch.” 

“Oh,” Cas says, one eyebrow arched high on his forehead and a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Well how can I say no to that?” 

Dean helps him gather his things and insists on carrying his bag as he leads Cas through the lines of desks to the corner office on the far wall. He ushers Cas into his office with a hand at the small of his back. Watching Cas look around the room is fascinating. Some primal part of him is eager to see how Cas reacts to a place that is so saturated in his scent it’s essentially _his._  

Cas’s scent is always a little sweet around Dean. It’s the biochemical feedback loop of their pheromones and mutual attraction that they’ve been ignoring by some sort of undiscussed agreement. Though it’s never been quite like this. He turns to look at Dean, sweet tendrils of slick and desire clouding the area around them, and his eyes are thin rings of blue shifting into gold. 

Dean’s hands fumble behind his back to lock the door to his office as he drops Cas’s bag gently onto the floor. Dean sways into Cas’s space, breathing deeply and blinking harshly at the sudden stifling atmosphere. There doesn’t seem to be enough air in the room for the both of them; yet, Dean wants to crowd Cas into a corner and cover him with his body. 

He wonders why he ever thought inviting Cas into his office would lead to any sort of innocent productivity. 

“Dean,” Cas rasps, mouth parted, red and open. 

“Yeah, Cas?” 

“If you don’t kiss me, I can’t be responsible for what I do,” he says, pulling at the buttons of his jacket like he’s half a second away from taking off his own clothes. 

Dean walks the two steps it takes to close the distance between them quickly, his hands coming up to wrap around Cas’s round jaw. He thumbs the skin there, soft and pliant under his fingertips, and savors the moment right before he finally gets to kiss Cas. 

“Don’t tease,” Cas whispers. He wets his lips and curls his fists into the pressed fabric of Dean’s shirt. He doesn’t pull Dean closer, but the intent behind the gesture is enough. 

“Sweetheart, the last two weeks have been nothing but a tease,” Dean says before he presses his lips to Cas’s. 

The kiss is chaste, too sweet for all the things Dean wants to do to Cas. But that’s what makes it perfect. Cas’s lips are dry and yielding. His breath skims over Dean’s own lips through the ready part of his mouth, and it’s less like the all-consuming electric burn that Dean had expected and more of a gratifying welcome. As he pulls away to look into Cas’s eyes, he’s glad for it. Glad to find that there’s something here that fed those domestic desires and he wasn’t just _wanting_ pointlessly. 

Cas’s arms move around Dean to clutch at his back, this time pulling Dean closer to capture his lips again. 

Dean’s own fingers are sunk into the thick, dark strands of Cas’s hair, so he uses his grip to press forward into Cas’s mouth. Cas just sighs, hot and wet and ready for Dean’s tongue. Both of them are eager for it, holding each other so tightly that Dean can feel the soft tremors of need from the press of Cas’s belly against him. Dean relishes in the feeling of it, not hesitating to draw his hands down the sides of Cas’s body until he’s holding his plump hips. 

They pull apart when the lack of air begins to burn in Dean’s chest. Cas pants harshly into the quiet of Dean’s office, and Dean takes the opportunity to nip softly down Cas’s neck. At the point just below Cas’s ear where his scent gland is, Dean sinks blunt teeth into sweet skin, giving himself at least this much even though it’s nowhere near what a real mating bite should be like. 

It’ll bruise for sure though, and the way Cas arches beautifully in Dean’s arms, gasps loudly, and just drips new sweetness into the air means the little omega _likes_ it. Dean can’t help but groan at that, thinking about worshiping Cas’s thighs with dark, biting claims. 

“Clothes?” Dean manages to ask. 

Cas nods against him, his long, curling fringe tickling the side of Dean’s face. His hands pull at the button clasps of Dean’s suspenders, already ready to divest Dean of his slacks at the mere suggestion of nakedness. 

At Dean’s slower movements to take off his clothes, Cas squints up at him with impatience. “I really need you to fuck me, Dean,” he says. 

Dean grins, Cas’s scent speaking more of slight annoyance than any true irritation. “Trust me, I’ve been dreaming of fucking you since day one.” He says. He leans down to press barely there kisses to the skin that’s been revealed by Cas’s half unbuttoned shirt “Still, I want to take my time with you.” 

Cas’s impatience melts away and he pets Dean’s hair tenderly, his eyes dark and gentle. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we will have plenty of time for that in the future.” 

Dean pauses, a little stunned at that. Of course he wanted something more than just a quick fuck in his office, but to hear it from Cas’s lips is something else entirely. “Promise?” he asks. 

“Promise.” 

Dean sinks to his knees, fingers hooking into the waistband of Cas’s jeans and working to unzip and slide them off Cas’s body as fast as possible. There’s a little clumsiness by Cas’s knees, but Dean succeeds in getting both jeans, shoes, and socks off Cas with just a stabilizing hand and a few giggles to show for it. 

Dean looks up at Cas and is struck at the sight of him. He’s finally shucking off his shirt, unconscious of Dean’s stare, so Dean sits there taking in the delicate pink panties stretched tight around the full round curves that make up Cas’s hips and ass. Cas’s little omega cock is trapped in the satin, leaking a wet, translucent smear in the fabric. His belly curves over the band slung low around his hips, rumpling the cute bow affixed to the center. And Dean’s veins flood with heat because Cas is so fucking lovely there is no way Dean is this lucky. 

His silence and inaction must last a minute too long because Cas looks down at him with a curious expression, misreading Dean’s hesitation by the way his mouth twists and dark lashes come down to shutter his eyes. “Ah, I’m sorry. I thought you didn’t—” 

“I don’t, sweetheart,” Dean interrupts, not wanting to give Cas the chance to be cruel to himself. “I just wanted to take in how amazingly perfect you are.” 

Dean slides wide hands around wider thighs and pulls Cas closer, burying his face into Cas’s middle and mouthing at the flesh. Deep within he wants to know how this will feel when Cas is full with pup and his skin is tight with it, but it doesn’t take away from how wonderful the feeling of Cas against him like this is. He growls low and needy into the give of Cas’s body, and it fully registers with Dean how tense Cas had become during that hiccup because he just relaxes completely in Dean’s grasp. 

“Oh, good,” Cas breathes, combing shaking fingers through Dean’s short hair. “Very good.” 

Dean’s mouth is too busy sucking bruises into pale skin to respond, but he is very much in agreement about how fucking amazing things are right now.  He drags Cas’s panties down his thighs, fingers slipping through the filthy amount of slick that has been pouring out of Cas. 

He moves to take Cas into his mouth, wanting to taste the salt and bitterness of his pre-come, when Cas digs blunt nails into his shoulders and pushes him back slightly. 

He face is red, eyes wet and wide, and lips quivering with remnants of his brief moment of doubt. “Please, Dean,” he asks. “The only thing I want right now is your knot.” 

“Yeah, alright,” Dean groans into Cas’s inner thigh. He lightly slaps Cas’s ass, the playful touch more of a tap than anything else, and fully lets that wildness itching under his skin come to the surface. “How about you go onto the couch, get on your knees, and rest your head on the armrest, huh?” 

“Yes, alpha,” Cas says with a sly look, eagerly scrambling to get situated on the couch. 

Dean bites his lip, preventing himself from groaning at how hot it was to hear Cas call him alpha. He tugged his shirt and pants off with jerky movements, not wanting to look away from the inviting stretch of pale omega waiting for him. 

Cas’s watches him in return, swaying his ass in the air in a tease of his own. His eyes skipping over the planes of Dean’s chest to rest on the heavy bob of his cock. The red flush of his skin darkens as he spread his legs wider, already trying to accommodate Dean. 

“Fuck,” Dean murmurs, quickly settling behind Cas and taking one last second to slide his hands over Cas’s skin, steadying and comforting him, before sliding two fingers into the pink stretch of Cas’s hole. Cas is tight and hot, but there is no resistance to Dean’s fingers and the pleads coming from his mouth are begging to be filled deeper and fuller. Dean takes himself in hand and holds Cas tightly with one hand as he eases his way inside. 

Cas’s body just fucking opens up for him, and it’s an incredible, mind-shattering slide until he bottoms out. The scent and feeling of Cas surrounds Dean completely. The world blurring at the edges as his hands greedily grab skin and touch Cas everywhere that he can manage. He’s rocking his hips in tiny thrusts, not willing to separate from the slick pull of Cas’s hole in favor of draping himself completely over the body below him. He wants so much from Cas like this he can barely handle it, tucking his face into the sweet curve of Cas’s neck. 

Hips rock back to meet his own, and soon Cas is working with Dean to fuck himself on Dean’s cock. It’s deep, long thrusts and slow movements until it’s not. The animal desperation that’s been present since day one making itself known by the fast and brutal pace their fucking descends to. 

Soon enough Cas is wetly gasping Dean’s name into his arm, coming weakly over the fist that Dean had slid around his cock moments before. It’s enough to have Dean swelling, locking tight and knotting Cas, painting his insides white with Dean’s claim. 

It takes some careful maneuvering, but they end up shifting together into a more comfortable position. Dean silently thanks his assistant for giving him a large throw blanket while he covers them, tucking Cas into the pocket of warmth between his body and the back of the couch. He had picked this couch for quick naps during his late nights, so it’s not surprising that it’s cozy enough to have them dozing off together. 

Cas shifts and sighs in his arms, murmuring a sleepy, “Would you like to go on a date sometime?” 

“Hell yes,” Dean replies, rubbing his forehead against Cas’s nape. A thought occurs to him and he snorts, hands stroking soothing lines over Cas’s belly to prevent alarm. “Before your car broke down, I had actually been fighting myself over whether or not to ask Charlie for your number.” 

Cas presses his hands to Dean’s, tangling their fingers together. “Well, now you won’t need to,” he says, hesitating a beat until asking, quiet and cautious, “And you wont have to fight yourself over this either, right?”   

Dean doesn’t need to say anything to reassure Cas. He just sets his teeth at the juncture where a mating bite would go, the intent behind the gesture clear. Cas goes boneless, Dean’s sense of him instantly pinging with content omega pheromones. 

He dozes, staying alert, and holds Cas tight as he drifts to sleep. It’s different but so very nice, having Cas in his arms like this. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll give anything to be able to get used to it.


End file.
